


pack my suitcase full of nothing

by bowlingcat



Category: Voyná i mir | War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Road Trip, And a little bit of angst, F/M, lots of longing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-29 10:36:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19018180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bowlingcat/pseuds/bowlingcat
Summary: Marya ran her eyes over the map, and nodded, with a quiet sense of awe, thinking that she’d never quite had that scale of ambition – that sense of freedom that would let her run across a continent.Marya Bolkonskaya embarks on a potentially ill-advised European road trip with Nikolai Rostov.





	pack my suitcase full of nothing

**Author's Note:**

> A couple things that might be worth me noting:
> 
> For my Marya and Nikolai, I've drawn on their depiction in both Tolstoy and the 2016 BBC adaptation, so I really do apologise where I've described them in more of a TV rather than book way.
> 
> Also, and this is my great crime, I made them English! I do think this is objectionable but I had no clue where to begin writing them as modern day Russian youths, so I hope you'll forgive me for this.
> 
> If you're willing to overlook these two transgressions, I do hope you enjoy the fic.

_france._

  
Marya glanced outside the window from behind the reception desk. The beauty of the mountains still impressed her, after five long months here. Those months were starting to feel like an eternity. She’d seen the mountains slowly blanketed, then smothered in snow, and now their hard, dark rock was starting to re-emerge. She was in the midst of trying to count the exact number of foolhardy, desperate skiers still out on the mountain on this warm spring evening when the doorbell chimed; she absentmindedly buzzed the door open.

Marya turned around slightly, adjusting in her seat to glance at the person entering, and to her surprise it wasn't one of the few hostel guests. Instead, there was a scruffy guy, more or less her age, with a small rucksack slung over his shoulder, standing before her. She couldn’t make a confident guess at his nationality, that is until he came out with a wonky _bonjour_.

“Ahh, you’re English?” she asked.

“Yes,” he smiled ruefully, meeting her gaze with earnest blue eyes.

“And what’s brought you here?”

“This is the town youth hostel, isn’t it? My French is pretty terrible, so maybe I misunderstood the directions...”

“Oh no, you’re right – this is the hostel. I just wasn’t expecting any more guests this evening.” Marya rifled through the papers on her desk to find the reservation sheet.

“Well, do you have room for one more?”

“Yes, we do, and it’s not exactly prime skiing season anymore, so you’ve pretty much got your pick of the dorms. What name should I put down?”

“I’m Nikolai Rostov.”

“Is that Nikolai with a ‘y’ or an ‘i’?”

“An ‘i’,” he smiled.

An hour later, Nikolai still hadn’t moved from the reception desk - he'd struck up a conversation with her and was chatting away. That didn’t bother Marya particularly; it was livening up what had been looking like another boring night. He was self-assured, and brash with questions, but to her surprise, Marya didn't feel as awkward or clumsy as she usually did around the guests.

She was trying to him explain how she ended up at the hostel.

“Okay, so, you were about to start that Master’s, when you just up and left?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Marya nodded, “I was two weeks from the start of term when I decided to defer.”

“And do you regret the decision?”

“No, not really. I wasn’t ready and I wasn’t doing it for the right reasons.”

“So what were the wrong reasons?”

“I mean I mostly applied to the course to please my father.”

“Yeah, that isn’t ideal,” Nikolai commiserated, and Marya noticed that he was leaning over the desk a little, leaning into her and into the conversation, “and are you happy here?”

“Not really... It’s been good experience, and my French has definitely improved… but the work is fairly dull and the conditions are just a notch above terrible.”

Nikolai looked slightly confused. “So why are you still here?” he asked.

“Well, it’s better than being at home. Back in England, I live in a house in the middle of nowhere, with no-one but my dad for company.”

“You don’t have any brothers or sisters?”

“Oh I have an older brother,” Marya nodded, “but he doesn’t come back home very often.”

“What’s your dad like?” Nikolai asked haltingly, as if he could sense that it was a tricky topic.

“He had this big career once, but he’s been at a loose end for the past ten years, and he likes to involve himself in our lives as much as possible. He’s just—he’s a very demanding person.”

“But you said you stayed at home for uni?”

“Yes, I did. Mostly out of guilt, I think. Obviously he’s not perfect, but he is my dad, and I felt like I couldn’t leave him all by himself for two thirds of the year. He wasn't keen on me going too far away.”

Nikolai nodded gently, to show that he understood what she meant, where she was coming from.

It felt good, really good, to actually talk to someone at length, after a cold five months, and Marya glanced over at him, with an almost unfamiliar smile on her face. “So you said your car broke down?” she asked, changing the topic.

Nikolai seemed to conversely brighten up a little. “Yeah, I’m kind of running that thing into the ground at the moment, so I’m not too shocked by the breakdown, but it could have happened in better places than the middle of the Alps.”

“And how long until it’s fixed?”

“The mechanic said it should be done by tomorrow morning, so fingers crossed.”

“Are you heading home to England after this?”

“Oh no, I’ve still got a good few months of travelling before I head back.”

“So this is an extended trip?”

“Yeah I left home about a month ago and at the moment I’m just planning on travelling ‘til I get sick of it, to be honest.”

“Okay...” Marya looked over him. She’d taken him for a fairly stable guy before, with his confidence and easy manner, but she was starting to reassess her assumptions. “Why all the travelling?” she challenged.

“I’m not entirely sure to be honest. I was perfectly content at home, but also completely bored. I never went to uni, and I think I needed some sort of change. Everything was starting to feel pretty unsatisfying.”

Marya was wary of being too intrusive, but Nikolai intrigued her, and she couldn’t help inquiring further. “Why didn’t you go to uni, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“A bunch of reasons. I never felt particularly drawn to studying, so the whole thing seemed like a waste of time. So after I did okay in my A-Levels, I got a job at a local bank.”

“Your parents were okay with that?”

“Yeah, they were pretty pleased, to be honest. I’d been a bit of a shit when I was at secondary school, getting into a bit of trouble and going out too late and too often, so I think they were relieved that there’d be some stability and routine in my life.”

“But then you just up and left?”

“Yeah after about four years at the bank. I’d been saving up for a new car, so I had some money put by. Then everyone I knew at school started coming back home, and it all became a bit claustrophobic. People’s endless anecdotes about their dull adventures started piling up on me, and I felt like I needed to get away,” said Nikolai, with a wry smile.

“But you brought your car with you?”

“Yeah, it seemed like the cheapest, easiest way to do this. I generally don’t need to pay for accommodation and I can go wherever I feel like.”

“Where are you coming from at the moment?”

“I’ve been in Spain and Portugal, but obviously with it being a peninsula, it doesn’t really lead anywhere, so then I came back up through the south of France, ‘til I ran aground in this lovely little town,” Nikolai smiled.

He pulled out a rough-looking road atlas of Europe out of his bag and onto the reception desk, and turned to the spread covering the whole continent, where he’d drawn a firm line along the route he’d taken, and drawn dotted routes in pencil that carried on beyond, which must be his possible journeys for the future, Marya thought.  
“See?”

Marya ran her eyes over the map, and nodded, with a quiet sense of awe, thinking that she’d never quite had that scale of ambition – that sense of freedom that would let her run across a continent.

***********

Nikolai remained perched by the desk, having dragged a chair across the hostel living room to the reception area, until the early hours of the morning. Marya had made some quick pasta in the hostel kitchen, and shared it out with him, and they'd each drunk a glass of two of wine. Nikolai had just started describing his home town.

“Oh really? My aunt lives near there, I think,” Marya exclaimed.

“Have you visited?”

“No, unfortunately. We’re not particularly close with any of our extended family. They seem perfectly nice, and they do invite us to come see them, but my dad has never accepted one of their invitations.”

“That’s a shame. It’s a nice area of the country. I think you’d like it.”

Marya looked up to meet Nikolai’s warm gaze. “Maybe I would.”

“So when do you clock off?” he asked.

“I’m actually here the whole night, because we need to have a twenty-four-seven presence, apparently, what with all our eight guests. I'll probably have a quick nap at some point in the night, but I don’t properly finish until 8am tomorrow.”

“Oh wow, okay – well, I would love to stay here chatting, but I am planning on driving tomorrow, so I should probably head upstairs for a wash and a few hours’ sleep.”

“Yeah definitely. Well it was really nice to talk to you!” She cringed as that came out; it felt a lot like gushing.

“You too.” And he turned back to wink before he headed up the stairs.

***********

Nikolai was at the local garage the next day with his newly patched-up car, when he remembered that he’d left his road atlas back at the hostel. He drove up the steep, winding road, past the small town church and the bright yellow La Poste, and parked in the small driveway in front of the old stone building.

He cheerfully swung back through the reception, to see a slightly sleepy-looking Marya glance up, smile, then proffer the atlas towards him.

At this simple gesture of mutual comprehension, he faltered. An idea crossed his mind, a foolish, but possibly great idea.

“So, you’re not actually enjoying yourself here, are you?” he asked Marya.

Marya took a beat to respond, surprised by the question. “I mean, no, not really.”

“Come with me then.”

“I can’t…” she mumbled, but he could see her quietly running through the idea in her head.

“Aren’t there other people that work here?” he asked.

“Yeah, there are.”

“Well if you’re working for room and board, but you no longer want that room and board, why are you really obligated to be here? You don’t have a contract, do you?”

“What are you actually proposing?”

“Okay, so I’m driving around, like I told you last night, and I’m inviting you to come with me. I can’t guarantee everything’ll be perfect, but I promise you can sleep in the nice warmish car – I’ll take the tent – and it’ll be a pretty cheap way to kill time ‘til your course starts in September. It won’t be boring,” he promised.

She’d packed her stuff within fifteen minutes. Nikolai went to make room in the boot of his car, then helped her put her things in beside his; she had a couple of medium-sized suitcases, a rucksack, and a thick, blue coat which she stuffed into the remaining boot space. Nikolai watched nervously as Marya looked over the car with a sceptical eye, but then she shrugged and laughed to herself. They waited at the hostel for another ten minutes, until her shift was properly over and she could hand over to Isabelle, her French co-worker.

She then briefly explained what she was doing to a surprised, and amazed, Isabelle and hastily scrawled a note for the hostel owner, in which she apologised profusely and wished him all the best for the future. Her politeness left Nikolai a little bemused, but he wasn’t particularly focused on the practicalities at that moment. There was a sort of giddy excitement flooding through his brain; he’d been happy travelling by himself, but was so pleased that Marya had agreed to join him.

Then she was sitting down next to him in the car, slamming the passenger door shut, and turning to him with a hopeful look on her face.

He grinned back at her. “Ready?”

“Absolutely.”

 

 

  
_switzerland._

  
They were across the Swiss border by teatime; the scenery didn’t look a whole lot different. Maybe the mountains were a little bigger, the villages slightly more picturesque, but the alpine feel was essentially the same.

The day after, they were driving along, skirting the edge of a large lake; Nikolai looked over at Marya, who was staring out of the window at the soft ripples of the water, with a look of fascination on her face. Part of him wanted to her to stay undisturbed in that state of wonder, but he had a few things he was curious about, so he cleared his throat.

“So your undergraduate degree was in theology, huh? That means, religion, and God, and praying..?” he asked.

“Not exactly, it's more about the philosophies behind religion.”

“Do you consider yourself religious? Sorry if that's a clumsy question.”

“Yeah. Back home I’m just a pretty standard C-of-E person, but I’m more interested in the spirituality of religion, rather than any specific branch.”

Nikolai nodded, feeling slightly out of his depth, and he mulled over this information for a second. Part of him worried that he had just potentially agreed to spend the next six months with some devout saint; and another part of him found Marya’s religious conviction unexpectedly attractive.

“And you?” Marya said, jutting into his thoughts.

“My family and I are just those once-a-year type of ‘Christians’. I think my parents are more attached to the local parish and its gossip than to any divine power.”

They fell into a comfortable silence for the next quarter of an hour. They listened to the engine’s unsteady hum and the lapping of the water on the lake. Nikolai mostly kept his eyes on the road, but occasionally he glanced over at Marya, and on more than one occasion, he found her with her eyes on him. Each time, they held each other’s attention for a few charged seconds, before Nikolai tore his eyes away back to the road.

The next day, they were in the snacks aisle of a small supermarket, when Nikolai began tossing packets of crisps in the trolley by the bucket load. Marya was slightly baffled.

“Don't we need some source of nutrition other than fried potatoes?” she asked.

Nikolai looked up, challenging her with a hard squint.

“Well, we’ve only just started shopping; we’ll get other things! Like, juice, and fruit, and…”

“But, beyond snacks, what are we meant to be living off of?”

“What do you mean, ‘beyond snacks’? Snacks are the foundation of budget travelling.”

“I really don’t believe that. They’re not even that cheap!”

They’d both ended up with their hands on their hips, in a ridiculous, fake stand-off.

Marya eventually won him over, and managed to pick up some pasta, rice, tinned vegetables, and tea bags, but the argument was reignited when she dropped a dozen bars of chocolate in the trolley.

“I thought we had to get sensible food?” Nikolai asked, in outrage.

“Well, we’ll need Swiss chocolate for the whole rest of the trip, so this actually is a pretty sensible decision,” She asserted, and pushed the trolley further down the aisle. Nikolai didn’t seem totally convinced, but when she looked back over her shoulder, he was dutifully following after her.

That evening, they stopped for the night by a river. There was a small car park, and a few picnic benches. Marya sat at the table closest to the car, while Nikolai was seemingly experimenting with the culinary limits of a camping stove.

After about twenty minutes, Nikolai had finished, and he brought over two plastic plates, and their colour-coordinated plastic cutlery, piled with what looked to Marya like a vaguely yellow mush.

Once her plate was set down, she could see that it was actually some rice, with carrots and sweetcorn and very possibly other things thoroughly mixed in.  
“Okay, so maybe it doesn’t look like much, but there is still the slim possibility that this will taste amazing,” Nikolai stated, with a mixture of defiance and despair on his face.

Marya took a bite.

“It’s… not terrible?” she offered.

Nikolai seemed pleased enough with that response, and started eating.

An hour or so later, it had already got pretty dark, but they’d put a little lantern out on the bench, and then not really moved beyond that. Nikolai was recounting a farcical anecdote about his youthful gambling exploits, and Marya burst out laughing. And it was while she was laughing, and Nikolai was grinning along, that Marya realised she didn’t remember ever feeling as at ease as she did in that moment.

They headed to bed shortly after, or rather Marya headed to the make-shift backseat car bed, and Nikolai wrestled into his small, flimsy-looking tent. She laughed to herself as she watched him, and then she blushed slightly as well; the tent rattled with movement as Nikolai undressed for sleep and Marya let her mind wander, just a little.

***********

At the end of the week, Marya asked if they could stop to find a Sunday morning church service. So they woke up early, and drove until they spotted a church spire.

When they reached the church, they checked the mass times, and explored the village for the next half an hour until the service was due to start.

When the church opened its doors, and the stream of people who'd been waiting outside headed into mass, Nikolai and Marya followed them and went for the pew at the back; she sat closest to the aisle.

She listened attentively to the service in French, but Nikolai was mostly bewildered by it. He couldn’t really distinguish between the words, and he wasn’t sure he was particularly interested in their meaning anyway. He mostly looked down, and his eyes caught on the line where his right leg was brushing lightly against Marya’s left leg. The sight, and the feeling of their legs against each other, filled him not just with the excitement that he was beginning to associate with Marya, but a soft pang of desire as well.

The service ended with a moment for prayer. There was a poise to the way Marya clasped her hands together, and bowed her head toward them. Nikolai tried to look in a vague downward direction, but pretty soon he found himself staring at Marya, studying her lips as they mouthed silent wishes. There was a certainty to her movements that he was in awe of.

Nikolai spent the rest of the day full of tension. His mind was so full of Marya, and her soft laugh, and her lips, that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't focus on anything else. He took two wrong turns while driving that afternoon, and he batted off Marya’s concerned questions unconvincingly.

That evening, in his tent, staring at the plastic ceiling that was three feet above him, he tried to think, really think, about what he was feeling. He felt drawn to Marya, but it seemed like a reckless and almost predatory thing to do, to go after this girl that he’d asked to come travel with him. He’d had no real hint from her that she fancied him, and maybe he’d just been the least bad option for her back in France. Even if she were interested in him, was it worth risking their stable, if new, friendship for something much more fragile?

Nikolai told himself he could put the idea aside for six months and see how he felt at the end of the trip - see how she felt at the end of the trip more importantly. He decided to just leave things for the moment; that should be best for both of them.

Nikolai grumbled to himself silently. Even though it seemed like the right decision, he wasn't looking forward to six months of trying to ignore his feelings.

 

 

_czech republic._

  
They headed north east across Europe, winding their way through southern Germany over about a week. The alpine landscape gradually gave way to greener, gentler slopes, and the wooden lodges became stone houses with steep roofs. They occasionally argued about where to head next, with Nikolai pushing for a 60-mile diversion, to a ‘must-see’ sight marked on the map, and Marya reminding him that they’d chose the route they’re on for a reason and it was already late afternoon. But that was as close as they would come to conflict, which was pretty good, Marya thought, considering they’d been more or less strangers two weeks and a half weeks ago when they decided to spend the next six months together. And it all seemed to work out for the best in the end, anyway, like the time that Nikolai suggested they head to a nineteenth-century castle in Bavaria, and Marya got to spend the afternoon quietly playing at being a princess, while Nikolai gave her the roughest of rough translations of the signs in German.

And then, having had their fill of wurst, they crossed into the Czech Republic. Marya was daunted by their shared inability to understand or speak any Czech, but Nikolai assured her that it would all be fine, with a gentle laugh. Marya looked at him with an open fondness and trust that overwhelmed him, and he had to look away.

They stopped in a small city, where accommodation was cheap, and they booked a twin room in one of the more run down hotels, allowing themselves a night of real, comfortable sleep for the first time in a while. The city had a big brewery, so after an afternoon of light sightseeing, they began the evening with designs on heavy drinking.

They ended up in a massive pub, with rows and rows of tables, and Nikolai got lost a couple of times later on in the evening, with the alcohol definitely not helping his efforts. He had to do a couple laps of the room ‘til he spotted Marya and her bright blue coat huddled at one of the smaller tables in the pub.

***********

The next morning, Marya woke up around eight, a little later than usual, and looked across the room; Nikolai was sprawled face down across his bed. She thought back to the night before, when she had drunk in moderation, but Nikolai had mostly definitely drunk to excess. She decided to let him sleep for the moment, and rifled through her bag to pull out a book.

A couple hours later, as it neared check out time, Marya reluctantly got out of bed to walk over to Nikolai’s bed. She paused for a second, before she gently tapped his bare shoulder, whispering ‘Nikolai’ and hoping to wake him up. She had to use slightly more force in the end, jogging his shoulder until he produced a disgruntled groan.

“Marya?”

“Yeah, you need to get up - we’ve got to get ready to head off.”

“No…” he croaked, with a low, slow voice.

“Come on,” she implored.

Nikolai turned away from the pillow and scrunched his eyes open to look up at Marya.

“I don’t feel up for leaving just now.”

Marya started to revise her assessment of the situation. Nikolai looked truly terrible, or, at least as terrible as his handsome face would allow him to. It didn't look like he was going to be driving anywhere that day.

“Well if you want to stay here we’ll have to book another night.”

“That sounds fine to me.”

“Okay - I’ll sort it out.”

Marya slipped her shoes on and headed down to reception. Nikolai looked apologetically, and just a little bit longingly, after her for a second, then turned back into his comforting, soft pillow.

***********

They spent a day in Prague, wandering around pastel buildings and dodging bright red trams. They had a beer at lunch, but nothing more, as Nikolai unequivocally promised Marya. They wriggled through a crowded St Charles Bridge, trying to appreciate it all even from bad angles, and Marya slipped away quietly, to Nikolai’s alarm, and came back to place a postcard-painting of the city in his hand. They grabbed an early, greasy street-food dinner, and headed back slowly to the car, with Marya laughing at the mess Nikolai was making of the food.

The sun was setting as they left the city, and Marya looked over her shoulder, back to a beautiful city bathed in a soft orange glow, then let her eyes drift until they settled on Nikolai’s figure. She noted the strength in his fingers, gripping the steering wheel, and followed the contour of his arm, up around his shoulder, then pausing on his face.  
He was focused on the junction up ahead, and didn't notice her staring for a couple of minutes. When he finally looked around, he met her eyes head on. She felt at once as if there were no distance between them, no place to hide, and all the distance in the world, no way to touch him. Then, all of a sudden Nikolai blinked twice and turned back to the road—

“Are you cool, Marya? Or was there something you needed?”

There was a cool tone to Nikolai’s voice that startled Marya.

“Oh sorry, I was totally zoned out for a moment there,” she lied, confused by the impatience in Nikolai’s questions.

By the next evening, the weather had taken a turn for the worse, with a sudden cold snap. Nikolai was out trying to pitch his tent in hard, frost-covered ground, while Marya sat in the car, cocooned in blankets, looking out at him. After about ten minutes of minimal progress, Nikolai heard a cough and turned back to the car to see the door open and Marya gesturing at him to walk over to the car, which he did.

“Sleep in the car,” she insisted.

“I mean, you’re definitely not sleeping out here in the tent.”

“I know that. We can both sleep in the car.”

“I feel like that’d be a bit of a squeeze,” Nikolai hesitated, anxious about how he could possibly keep a platonic distance between them in just a few square metres.

“I don’t care - it’s too cold. I can’t be bothered to spend the next hour worrying about your inability to pitch a tent. I want to go to sleep, so get in.”

Nikolai was taken aback by Marya’s uncharacteristic forthrightness.

They ended up lying more or less side by side; Nikolai’s attempts to wriggle away and to leave Marya some space were futile, because there was nowhere for him to wriggle away into. There was a warmth about her presence that he sank into eventually, after he had shut down the part of his brain warning him that this was definitely too much, that it was too personal, too intimate. Marya fell asleep quickly; and Nikolai glanced over at her peaceful face, before sighing and easing into a contented sleep himself.

Nikolai woke up mid-morning to find Marya nestled into him, with her head by his shoulder, having turned over in the night to face him. She was still fast asleep, which was odd, because she was usually an early riser. Nikolai made to get out of the car, and winced as he had to detangle his limbs from Marya’s. He thought he'd managed to not disturb her, but as he stretched his arms out in the crisp morning air, he looked back to the car to see a messy-haired Marya squinting at him with a faint pout on her face. He felt a pang of guilt.

“Good morning. How did you sleep?” he asked in what he hoped was a measured tone.

“I slept well. It was nice and warm and peaceful – until you woke me up of course,” she said, with a joking warmth in her voice.

“Yeah, sorry about that—I just thought that we should probably get going,” Nikolai lied, knowing just as well as Marya did that they were ahead of their rough schedule and theyhad no need to drive more than twenty miles that day.

“Oh okay.” And Marya looked uneasy all of a sudden. “Sorry if you were uncomfortable during the night. I just thought that it’d be better than the cold.”

“No, no, it was fine,” he hesitated, paused for too long for it to seem natural, so he gave up on the whole thing. He walked over to the boot instead and pulled out the camping stove and kettle. “Tea?” he asked, with a half-apologetic look on his face.

“Tea,” she confirmed.

The biting cold made it unpleasant for them to be outside for any real length of time, so they decided to head to the nearest café. They ended up at a cheap place with free wifi, which was a welcome novelty for both of them, because they’d been largely disconnected from the internet for the last few weeks, just checking the news and their emails once a day with Nikolai’s limited mobile data.

Marya decided to skype her older brother from the café, because she felt guilty over the whole leaving-her-job-on-a-whim-and-not-telling-her-family-where-she-was-going thing. Nikolai found himself sitting awkwardly on the other side of their table, while she assured her brother that everything was going well and that she definitely had enough money. Nikolai decided to head to the loo, and give her a chance to talk to her brother in private.

As he walked back to the table a few minutes later, he heard his name and slowed down slightly, unsure as to whether he should go wait somewhere else, but while he was paused within earshot, he overheard a snippet of Marya’s conversation and couldn't pull himself away.

“I promise you, Nikolai’s a good guy.”

“How can you be sure of that? You met him two weeks ago!”

“I know, but I trust him.”

“What if he’s just trying to get with you? He’s not actually obliged to carry on letting you travel with him. You might end up all alone, in the middle of nowhere, a thousand miles from home.”

Nikolai winced with guilt at the concern in her brother’s voice.

“I feel like you’re being a bit over the top there, Andrei. It seems like he just wants some company, and nothing more. He’s not trying to ‘get with me’, so you can stop worrying.”

“This just all seems so out of character for you, Marya. Do you fancy him?”

Marya sighed. “I don’t have to explain this to you, Andrei. I’m doing what I’m doing and I’ll keep in touch, so just don’t worry.” Nikolai was equal parts unnerved and enthralled that she hadn't answered her brother’s question.

Nikolai tiptoed awkwardly into Marya’s view, and she looked away, seeming slightly embarrassed.

“Anyway, I have to go, so speak soon and tell Dad I say hi,” then Marya pressed the end-call button, as her brother made some noise of objection.  
Nikolai sat back down.

“How was he?” he asked.

“Just worried really.”

“And how are you?”

“I’m good,” Marya said, looking slightly confused.

“You’re sure you’re not having any second doubts about this whole trip. I’m more than happy to take you back to France if you want-”

“No - I don’t want that. Andrei’s just worrying needlessly, as he tends to do. I’m all in.”

“Okay. Good to know. Me too.”

 

 

  
  
_russia._

 

So they ended up on the Russian border; well, not quite, but – but it was a border with a Russia. They’d spent a week or so in Poland when they decided to travel to Klaningrand, a small Russian enclave just north of where they were. Marya was talking to Nikolai about Russian churches, and their golden roofs. She felt like she’d been blabbering on for far too long, realising that the topic of Orthodox Christianity probably wasn’t that interesting for Nikolai; but when she looked over at him, his eyes were focused on her with this intense warmth, which made her reconsider her assumption that their relationship was entirely platonic for him.

“Let’s go to Russia next then,” he said, as if it was perfectly simple.

“That’s not what I was trying to get at.”

“I know, but let’s do it.”

And that was how they ended up stuck at the Russian border for over three hours, waiting to get their temporary visas.

“What do you miss most about home?” Marya asked all of a sudden.

“Not sure, probably my family. You?”

“I don’t know if there’s anything I really properly miss. Like it’s nice to spend time with Andrei, but I barely see him.  Sometimes it feels like there isn't much for me at home.” Marya trailed off and looked down at her fingers.

Nikolai reached over and placed his hand over hers, comforting her.

“We’re not in England now - you don’t need to worry about home,” he reassured her.

“I know, but we can't travel forever, can we?”

A Russian border officer knocked on Nikolai’s car window at that point, and handed them back their passports. Nikolai took the documents, nodded a thank you, then began to drive off.

They ended up in the big, modern church in the capital city of Kaliningrad. Nikolai held Marya’s stuff as she ventured forward in the aisle, looking up and around her in wonder.

She brushed her hand across the tops of the pews as she walked toward the altar.

Nikolai sat down in the back of the church, and looked on in admiration at Marya, at her constancy, and certainty.

His eyes followed her as she crouched down gently to pay the donation for a candle, and as she took a candle, leant it into the flame of another and then set it down after the flame had caught. She looked upward, and prayed with silent determination. Nikolai thought back to that church service in Switzerland a few weeks ago, when he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off her whispering lips, and after which he’d resolved to try and back away from her, to give her space.

Nikolai heard a buzz from Marya’s bag. He rootled around until he pulled her phone out and saw that she’d missed seven calls from her brother in the past half an hour.

“Marya,” he called.

“Yes,” Marya said, turning her head away from the candle display.

“I think you need to come check your phone.”

Marya walked over at a fair pace, then took her phone, sighed and headed out of the church.

Nikolai trailed behind her, but kept his distance, wanting to give her a bit of privacy.

She wandered back to find him about five minutes later, and looked distracted.

“What was that about,” Nikolai asked.

“That was my brother.. it was about my dad.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Not really,” and Marya was looking down, not making eye contact. “He’s had a fall.”

“Is it serious?”

“Yeah, it looks like it could be.”

“Okay,” Nikolai was taken aback and had no clue how to respond. “Well, do you think you should head home?”

“No,” Marya paused, “I just—I don’t think I can go back yet.”

It was only at this point, after a month of travelling, and confiding, that Nikolai really appreciated just how difficult Marya’s relationship was with her family.   

“Okay, well, if you’re sure.”

“I am.”

That evening, they found themselves sitting on a bench, looking out onto the sea. It was beginning to get dark, but Marya didn't want to leave just yet. They’d been there for a couple of hours at that point, and it was getting cold, but they were warm enough in their jumpers for the moment. They'd picked up this cheap bottle of vodka earlier on, because, hey, they were in Russia, but neither of them was particularly in the mood for hard spirits, so they each had a plastic cup full of weak vodka-lemonade, nothing more.  
They had been chatting more or less the whole time they'd been sitting there, but the conversation felt superficial to Marya. They were both ignoring the topic of her dad. No matter how much she told herself she didn't care about what was happening back home; there was a part of her that worried anyway. And when she frowned, or grimaced, Nikolai looked at her with such concern that that unnerved her too.

They watched as the tide headed out, faster than either of them expected.

“Look, are you sure you’re okay about this whole thing with your dad? If you wanna talk about it— I’d just like to be here for you if you need me.” He placed his hand by hers on the bench, and rubbed her fingers gently.

Marya turned to look directly at Nikolai; she stretched her fingers out, and linked them deliberately into Nikolai’s. He squeezed her hand in response.

“This is enough, right now,” said Marya.

“Where are you wanting to go next, by the way? We’ve only got one more night left here, and we can change where we'd planned to go if you’d like,” Nikolai assured her gently.

“I think maybe I’d like to follow the coast up a bit… I like the feeling of being on the edge of something,” she said with a quiet smile.

The winds had picked up in the meanwhile, and a particularly strong breeze made Marya shiver and shrink into her jumper. Nikolai pulled her to him slightly, so that her head was resting lightly on his shoulder. There was something so comforting about the warmth that she could feel radiating through his fleece.

“The coast sounds wonderful to me. More of this sounds wonderful to me.”

Marya’s mind turned to Nikolai, and the fact that she had felt freer with him than she ever had before. The way that his handsome smile gave her a newfound, sustaining confidence. She felt tears well up for some stupid reason; maybe it was the cold.

She felt Nikolai’s fingers guide her face up to meet his, and he wiped a tear off her cheek with a concerned bite at his lip, as he started to turn back toward the sea. There was such a restraint to this gesture that Marya felt the moment become charged; she knew in that moment that he did feel something for her, and she was unwilling to let it slip by as just another moment of tension.

Marya halted Nikolai’s face with her hand and leant her head in smoothly and pressed her lips to his. He responded with a natural finesse, his lips to meeting hers in a steady rhythm. Encouraged by his reciprocation, Marya pushed forward, kissing him with greater urgency.

But it was at that point that Nikolai froze. He pulled back so that there was a couple of inches of distance between their faces. Nikolai looked at her, and he was so close that the incline of his nose dominated Marya's vision.

“I think we both need some sleep,” then he untangled himself from her further, until they were on opposite ends of the bench.

Marya felt a sense of rejection weighing down in her stomach, as she leant back into the bench and looked up at the darkening sky.

“Yeah, I guess we better be getting going,” she agreed.

Beyond practicalities, they didn’t speak to each other for the rest of the night, each one of them retreating into their space as quickly as possible.

Nikolai slept terribly. His mind couldn't escape that moment on the bench. He knew logically that you just shouldn't kiss a girl who was crying. What had happened between them probably had more to do with Marya’s feelings about the situation with her dad than her feelings towards him. But of course there was a foolish, romantic part of Nikolai asking what might have happened if he hadn’t pulled away. And the same circle of thoughts span round in his head for the whole night.

With his brain worn out, he felt himself beginning to drift off just as it was beginning to get light. But soon after, he woke up to a brighter sunlight and the sound of his tent being unzipped.

“Morning, Nikolai,” there was a purpose and a neutrality to Marya’s words. “I’ve decided I want to go back home.”

Nikolai felt his eyebrows raise in surprise, and he pulled a t-shirt over his head then clambered out of the tent.

“Sure… I mean, that makes complete sense.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I was being sensible yesterday. So anyway, I called Andrei and we looked up flights; I’m leaving from Gdansk in about five hours – you can drive me can’t you?”

“Yeah,” Nikolai mumbled, feeling like his brain wasn’t really processing any of it. “When do we need to leave then?”

“I mean, the sooner the better, but within the next half an hour.”

“Okay, I can be ready in about ten minutes.”

The drive to the airport was the most awkward period of time they had spent in each other’s company. Marya fidgeted, and texted her brother, while Nikolai kept his eyes fixed to the road, trying to concentrate on driving, despite the mass of noisy thoughts and feelings clouding his mind. They didn't talk to each other.

They got to the airport with time to spare. Marya checked in with no problems and, sooner than Nikolai could believe, they were just standing there, with no baggage left to wedge between them.

“I think I should probably head through security.”

“Yeah, yeah – of course.”

And somehow now they were meant to be saying goodbye.

Nikolai pulled Marya into a light hug, but they were both pretty stiff with restraint. In amongst his sense of uncertain finality, Nikolai tried to remember that moment - he wanted to remember it right.

Marya pulled back.

“Well, I hope your flight goes well, and your dad’s okay when you get home,” Nikolai said.

“Thanks,” Marya replied, with a polite smile, “Nikolai, I’ve really enjoyed the past few weeks.”

“Me too.”

“Thanks for inviting me.”

“You’re welcome. We had a great time, didn’t we?”

“We did,” Marya nodded.

Nikolai felt the sheer inadequacy of their civil words weighing down on him. In the same way that he had once felt they were so close, he now felt her dad’s accident, their halted kiss, and her imminent departure pushing them apart. That foolish, romantic part of him wanted to ask her to promise that they’ll see each other again back in the UK, but it just wasn't the right moment. So instead, they carried on going through the clichéd motions of a normal ‘goodbye’.

“Message me to let me know you’ve got back home safe.”

“I will,” Marya paused slightly, then looked up at Nikolai with a quiet intensity. “Goodbye.”

“Yeah— bye.” Nikolai replied quietly.

And then Marya moved away, into a crowd of people, and Nikolai’s eyes followed her until she had shuffled through security and disappeared beyond a barrier.

Nikolai turned around and headed out of the airport rapidly. He got in his car and pulled the door shut. The significance of what had just happened suddenly came over him, and he buried his head in his hands, clutched at the roots of his hair with his fingers, and breathed heavily. The loss of the hopes that he had pinned to the next few months overwhelmed him. That future that had seemed so definite twenty-four hours ago had gone now. Excitement and expectation had become regret and loss.  
He stayed like that for half an hour, until he had numbed himself so that he could think about the reality of the situation. He had been so busy thinking about what Marya was going to do that he hadn't thought about his own plans.

Nikolai pulled the atlas out of the glovebox and opened it to northern Poland. He allowed himself to trace over the pencil line that Marya had lightly drawn, winding north-east. Then he started to draw his own line, heading in the opposite direction and taking him right back home.

 

 

  
  
_england._

 

It had been eight months now. Eight months since he had heard anything from Marya.

She’d texted him the day after her flight.

_Got back fine. Saw my dad this morning. I hope you’re well._

Nikolai had wanted to ask how she was feeling and how her dad was, but he had recognised her polite, distant tone from the airport. So instead he had just replied:

_That’s good to hear. Let me know if you need anything x_

Nikolai had arrived back home after three long days of driving; and after a quick, emotional reunion with his family, he had dragged his stuff up to his room, shut the door andthen stood against it, leaning his head back. He had decided to try not to dwell on it all.

But obviously, things didn’t always work out exactly as Nikolai planned.

Thoughts of Marya had recurred over those eight months, but he told himself that he should wait, see if she reached out to him, and she never did.

And so Nikolai found himself sitting snuggly on a church pew with his family, on Christmas Eve. He listened faintly to the vicar’s words, but not even the excitement of Christmas could enthuse him about the service.

When they all got up at the end of the service, Nikolai looked around at the people milling out of the church, and a bright blue coat caught his eye. He could only see the back of the woman wearing it, but he recognised her hair as well. Before he could make any concerted effort to move forward, she had left the church, and Nikolai didn't think it would be very in-keeping with the spirit of the season to push his way past the hundred or so people in front him. But he thought back to Marya’s description of that distant aunt, who lived nearby.

After hot chocolate with his family when they got back home, Nikolai stopped to talk to his mum.

“Do you recognise the surname at all?”

“I do actually. There’s an Anna who works at the post office by that name. Hang on, I’ve got it in my address book.”

His mother went to a desk drawer, pulled out a well-thumbed book, and flicked through until she found the name and tapped her finger on it.

“Here you go. I’m heading to bed now, so see you in the morning for presents.”

Nikolai kissed his mother’s cheek goodnight, and then as she was walking up the stairs, he copied the address down onto a piece of paper and slid it into his back pocket.

***********

Marya felt thankful that Christmas had passed without incident. She’d asked Andrei not to accept her aunt’s invitation, but he’d insisted that they couldn’t stay in their house alone over Christmas - it would be too lonely.

She had texted Nikolai’s number back in November, knowing that he lived nearby, but the text had bounced back a few minutes later. Marya had remembered that Nikolai was using a foreign sim card when they were travelling. She tried not to think about him after that.

It was now Boxing Day morning and she was reading on the sofa, still feeling uncomfortable in the small, strange house.

The doorbell rang, and she heard her aunt unlatch and open the front door.

“Hello?”

“Hi, sorry to bother you. This might be a really weird question, but do you by any chance have a niece named Marya?”

Marya recognised Nikolai’s voice at once, even though it was muffled by the walls between them. She stared down at her book, but listened intently to the conversation at the door rather than focusing on the words on the page in front of her.

“Yes. Do you know her?” her aunt replied, in an dubious tone.

“I do actually. Might she be here at the moment?”

“Yes, she’s just inside – would you like me to go get her? And what’s your name?”

“It’s Nikolai, and that would be great – thank you!”

Marya was trying to ready herself, when her retired aunt poked her head around the sitting room door.

“There’s a ‘Nikolai’ at the front door. He says he knows you?” her aunt looked so bemused by the whole thing that Marya would have laughed if she weren't so nervous.

“Okay – yeah, I know him,” Marya got up off the sofa, and tried to breathe deeply a couple of times before she reached the front door.

When she looked ahead of her, sure enough, he was standing there; and his face was just as handsome as she’d remembered, although it looked more uncertain than it had done in the spring.

“Hi?” Marya offered, trying not to look as confused as she felt.

“Hey.”

Marya’s heart was beating hard, and she was caught between hope and despair. Why is he actually here?

“Is this just a, sort of, tying up loose ends thing? Saying a polite hello, how are you?” she asked, hoping there wasn't too much desperation in her voice.

“No, it’s not. I came to say that I hate how our trip ended. Not that you went back home, I understand that obviously, but I hate that we left things so awkwardly.”

“I mean, my dad was dying - it was never going to be some feel-good ending. And you don’t need to feel guilty for pushing me away that last evening. It was for the best in the end. I needed to be home.” Marya was trying to sound as measured as possible.

“I’m sorry– about your dad,” Nikolai paused, looked a little lost. “I was never upset that you decided to leave– that’s not what this is about. But I feel like maybe I should explain that last evening we had together.

“I’d told myself couple days into our trip that travelling together would be simpler if everything stayed platonic between us. It seemed practical. And then when you kissed me, after all that stuff with your dad, I felt like cooling things down was the sensible decision.”

“Why didn’t you call, Nikolai?” asked Marya, and she still felt numbed by the same sad confusion she had felt since that goodbye at the airport. “It’s been eight months. I get that you were probably busy, but it would have been nice to hear how the trip was going.”

“Actually I came straight home just after you left, so there wasn’t much to report on, and I just didn’t think you would want to hear from me. You didn't reply to that last text and I didn’t want to push you - I wasn't sure what you were going through.”

“Okay. I understand,” Marya was kind of at a loss; she looked down at her fingers, and clutched her jumper. In the last half a year, she had thought over what she might say if she ever bumped into Nikolai again, but none of the ‘How was Finland?’ and ‘What was the boat trip like?’ small-talk questions fitted this scenario.

“Marya.”

She looked up and met Nikolai’s eyes.

He continued, “I've really missed you. Maybe that sounds stupid. I know we only knew each other for a month, but it felt like something. Since I've been home, I haven't settled back into the rhythm of my old life - you've always been there, in the back of my mind,” Nikolai looked at her with an earnest openness that she recognised. “What I’m really, properly trying to say is: I like you, a whole lot... I want to be with you, in some way, if that's possible.”

A wave of surprise came over Marya and she let out the breath that she didn’t know she was holding in.

She stepped forward, and leant down from the doorway to kiss Nikolai, for the second time that year.

But this time, he didn't react out of habit or practicality. He kissed her back with the intensity that she’d seen in him all those months ago. His lips moved fiercely against her own, and then his hands were just above her waist, clutching desperately at her, and pulling her flush against him. After a while, Marya pulled back and moved to nestle her head into his neck, as they both breathed heavily.

Marya murmured into his skin, “I want to be with you too.”

And Nikolai responded with a light, relieved laughter, “At last.”


End file.
